The First Communication
by ASBusinessMagnet
Summary: While working on her own breakthrough in quantum mechanics, Rosalind Lutece notices that someone has been trying to get in touch with her via the invention. Oneshot.
1. Rosalind

"_I had trapped the atom in the mid-air. Colleagues called my Lutece Field "quantum levitation", but in fact, it was nothing of the sort. Magicians levitate. My atom simply failed to fall. If an atom could be suspended indefinitely, well - why not an apple? If an apple, why not a city?"_

Rosalind Lutece replayed the voxophone for what felt like a millionth time while staring into the ocean.

She didn't even know why this was a good place to think about one's personal achievements. After all, the dreadful newfound statue was there, holding its torch and its book, almost as a mockery of explorers. Of course, it should be noted that Rosalind was not an explorer of the traditional sea-faring sort, but rather one employing the scientific method. Though, she was always the one to look into the future and imagine what her discoveries could lead into.

A floating city not unlike New York would truly be a marvelous sight to behold for anyone who was to step into it. Unfortunately, without any sort of sponsor, Rosalind's experiments with the Lutece particle remained confined in her lab, closed behind two pairs of doors so that no intruder could ever reach her secrets. She only ever shared the results, already rigorously processed and written down on actual paper, to be peer reviewed by her colleagues.

With those experiments in mind, Rosalind looked away from the dull copper of the statue and headed back to her home.

* * *

The Lutece Laboratory was a rather unusual home, in that it doubled as a shop of scientific equipment. When a visitor opened its doors, they weren't immediately greeted with a recognizable living space, but rather with a counter. The two side doors in this front room were usually closed, but were wide open during business hours, and were covered with various glass containers. It wasn't only scientists who needed them; they also served some people in an everyday kitchen, as a counterpart to the usual boring aluminum tools. Thus, Rosalind Lutece had an additional source of profit to support herself.

However, once she stepped through the other pair of doors, an entirely different life was unveiled. This was Rosalind's actual home, and the objects that were hung there were sure to represent that. A staircase leading to the second floor, which hosted Rosalind's bed. Various chalkboards, noting the discoveries made with the Lutece particle. A library's worth of books, most on the subject of quantum mechanics, but also featuring miscellaneous non-fiction and, extraordinarily rarely, fiction. Pictures of Rosalind's life during her school and university years, the colleagues that she had met during her years and the original barn where she was raised as a lone child and sole heiress.

With all this in mind, Rosalind deeply exhaled and sat down on the backroom, observing the Lutece particle, still afloat at a fixed height. Being sure to discard everything that she thought, she set down the voxophone on one of the chalkboards, not even caring about the fact she dropped the audio recording device onto the floor, and set out to look at the particle, rendered visible by a small object - one of those peculiar "snowglobes" that seemed to make the rounds both on this and the other side of the Atlantic Ocean.

That was when she noticed that the Lutece particle had been behaving rather weirdly.

Being shaken out of its still position every now and then, as one could tell by the snow consistently falling and then rising to its original place, the object had been fluctuating between two positions. Rosalind was quick to notice that this fluctuation wasn't regular, either; rather, there seemed to be longer and shorter disturbances, as well as longer and shorter pauses between the agitated states. The young woman picked up the snowglobe and went into the second floor, setting the glass dome back to its original position by her bedside, and instead plugged out an "incandescent light bulb" from the wires that would otherwise give it electricity to run. She then went back downstairs and set the bulb onto the particle. Surely enough, the object continued to float, but was also giving out a very clear signal that the scientist could observe.

Rosalind erased what had been written on the chalkboard, most likely as it was already written down on one of the notebooks, and started noting the pattern of the particle's states. She quickly noted that the "on" states had little variation to them, as there was only a shorter signal (denoted as an "S") and a longer signal (denoted as an "L"). Midway through writing this, though, she had noticed something, and briefly stopped in realization.

_Morse code._

Rosalind erased the former writing on the board, instead noting the pattern with dots and dashes. She also noted the longer pauses via forward slashes, and the longest pauses of all, which seemed to last for a good two seconds, as double forward slashes. This was by no means the standard way of noting down Morse code, but it would help in decoding.

After several minutes of writing down the code, though, Rosalind realized that it was repeating, as if the joker who felt it was a good prank to encode the message in the first place really wanted her attention and was sure to make the message clear to her. She noted that the message was in fact a loop via a pair of brackets, then went upstairs again and rummaged through her library to search for the book on telecommunications that she picked up.

Thinking something along the lines of _it is the most convenient way to transfer information when all that is available is an "on" and "off" state, _Rosalind opened the page where the precise guide to the alphabet was given, and went back downstairs to finally decode the message. The first "letter" that she had written down had translated to a "T", and thus Rosalind erased the dash, replacing it with the letter. The next symbol was a single dot, and thus was an "E"...

* * *

The message now stood decoded, before Rosalind. Immediately, she noticed that she had gotten the precise point of the breaking of the loop wrong; indeed, there was a fraction bar symbol in the message that indicated that the message needed to be broken up here. With this correction in mind, Rosalind placed the first four letters and the full stop of the message at the end, and now she was able to try and discern the message's meaning.

_Hello, I am Robert Lutece._

Robert Lutece? Rosalind had known no family member who would have this name. Then again, she didn't know many details about her lineage in general; she had been admitted into university due to her performance at school and the support from the school's funds, rather than a more direct financing from any of her relatives, and frankly, no relatives seemed to her as likely candidates for a fate similar to Rosalind's.

And yet, here he was. Robert Lutece was likely observing the particle from another place on the Earth, or - if the rumors had truly been confirmed and there _was_ no Robert Lutece from the Earth - from an alternate Earth. Rosalind was never a huge fan of the multiverse theory, but _if_ her fears were confirmed, maybe now was the time to reconsider it.

Quickly writing down the message to relay to the mysterious Robert fellow, Rosalind went looking for notes that would help her confirm or deny the hypothesis.

* * *

Rosalind returned to the Lutece Laboratory, feeling partially satisfied with the answer that she got, partially feeling down. As she had gotten confirmation from the staff of the university, there was no other member of any extended Lutece family studying right now, and therefore it really meant that Robert was indeed from another Earth. Rosalind tried to picture this other Earth in her head: an alternate Paris, an alternate New York and people living in those cities, among whom was some sort of alternate Lutece family that...

The student dropped her notebook in a brief flash of epiphany.

It was a brief episode, while she was back in her family, youthful and curious as ever. She did not quite know what she was thinking, but the matter of fact was that she asked: "If I ever had a brother, what would he be named?"

"Well, Robert sounds like a nice name, doesn't it?" Her father had answered, and her mother had agreed.

Knocked back to the present, Rosalind had finally realized. Robert was indeed some sort of her alternate universe brother, one that she never had, but one that she could and definitely was going to establish contact with.

Rosalind immediately began working on a device that could successfully alter the Lutece particle between the two observed states. She pulled out a wrench from a drawer, almost stepping on the voxophone and putting the chalkboard to the side, where there was only the message, awaiting encoding:

_Hello, Robert. I am Rosalind Lutece. Aren't we related?_

* * *

_Author's idiotisms: There you have it. My first actual Lutece story. Are you satisfied with this transfer of fandom?__  
_


	2. Robert

**The First Communication**  
By: WSBusinessMagnet  
Robert Lutece explores the limits of his newest invention. It turns out that, unexpectedly, there is someone at the other end wanting to get his attention. Oneshot.  
Rated: Fiction K - English - [Robert L., Rosalind L.] - Chapters: 2 - Words: 3,191 - Reviews: 1 - Favs: 4 - Updated: Jan 10 - Published: Jan 4 - Status: Complete - id: 10947048

* * *

_"I had trapped the atom in mid-air. Colleagues called my development in quantum levitation "the Lutece field", but let's face the crass facts: nothing can be truly named after me everywhere throughout. Though, I refuse to believe that the field is only capable of that, and will continue to explore its capabilities."_

Robert Lutece was never one to listen to his own voice.

It wasn't just the fact that he never particularly liked how he sounded on a magnetic tape. He didn't even know _why_ he was recording voxophones to begin with. Such a simple message could be recorded on paper, or through any other lossless methods of information storage. Likewise, he wasn't of the melancholic type, and he wasn't willing to spend more than it was necessary in the streets of New York. He reassured himself that it was only a brief tour.

Nevertheless, he could afford just some melancholy and otherwise not being in business. He looked closer at the copper statue that was recently constructed. It felt inspiring, as if it was its own sort of freedom; one that would guide others in its way. The model was something that everyone could learn from, be it an immigrant who is only settling in the United States of America or a long-term inhabitant who was simply exploring metaphorical waters.

_Alright, that is enough thoughts for today_, Robert decided and, looking back into Manhattan proper, headed back to his home.

* * *

The Lutece Laboratory certainly wasn't an ordinary home, mainly because Robert was also a vendor of scientific equipment. To anyone who found himself (un)lucky to enter the building, the first sight was not a living space, but a commercial one. The two doors on the side of this mini-shop were usually closed, but when Robert was in his position, they were wide open and were covered with a copious amount of aluminum containers. _Safety first_ was Robert's motto when he was running the shop, and anything made out of glass, if it was hot enough, would have instantly broken, ruining everything. Thus, Robert made his profit.

However, once he stepped through the other pair of doors, he finally felt like he was back home. This was where Robert actually lived, and the paraphernalia of this place was a good reflection of that. A staircase leading to the second floor, which hosted Robert's bed. Various chalkboards, noting the discoveries in quantum levitation. A library's worth of books, which he had a reasonable variety of; not just quantum mechanics, as would be with someone who was taking their job very seriously. Pictures of Robert's life during his school and university years, the colleagues that he had met during his years and the original barn where he was raised as a lone child and sole heir.

With all this in mind, Robert deeply exhaled and sat down just before his experimentation device. He had already hooked up complicated machinery to the particle that, to him, shall remain nameless, and now it was printing a consistent pattern of rising and falling waves. He collected the whole roll of paper that had been printed out, threw it into the corner of the room and then neatly placed the audio recording device on it. He loved the idea that everything that he ever did would have some sort of inherent meaning.

That was when he was hit with the most brilliant idea that could be done with the technology.

There must have been a way to "reprogram" the particle so it could emit a consistent pattern of switching between the two states. Of course, a complete science bore would then go on and make the particle be in only one state, or have a consistent period of switching between two states. But this was no science bore; this was, after all, Robert Lutece himself, the man who had been dealing with quantum mechanics even though it wasn't his greatest passion at all. The young man was going to encode an actual message within the particle, presumably via some means of translating words into binary code, as a way to let anyone and everyone who came across the experiment (assuming they would have been able to enter this private part of the Lutece Laboratory) to be able to read the message and allow him to live a sort of second life.

Robert pondered how such a method of communication could be employed. It couldn't have been read as a series of zeroes and ones; after all, in such a way, who could tell where the message began? There needed to be a system which would employ long and short switches of states to indicate the words being spoken, and even longer switches to indicate pauses. Of course, immediately when thinking about it, Robert knew what to use.

_Morse code._

Robert erased the former notes on the chalkboard, instead meaning to note whatever he was going to encode. He wasn't going to encode a message that was _too_ long; well, he could try and write down his entire book, _Barriers to Trans-Dimensional Travel_, but even telegraph wasn't suitable for this kind of transmission, let alone some quantum discovery.

Instead, the message needed to be short and repeat. Robert thought for some time on what he was going to encode, and decided that an introduction with his own name would be perfect. He went through several iterations of the message's exact content, knowing that this was a very important choice. Eventually, he settled on the simplest, shortest and "sweetest" (Robert smiled at the alliteration that he had thought of) possible introduction.

Having the precise message burned in his head and expecting that it would also burn in the heads of anyone who came across it, Robert went to his library to search for a book on telecommunications. Given that he had sorted all his books, he quickly found it, and then opened the page where the definitions for Morse code letters were given. He began encoding them: an "H" would be represented by four dots. Then, a single dot would have been an "E"...

* * *

The message now stood encoded, before Robert. Immediately, he realized that he also needed one more symbol: a forward-slash to indicate that this was the simultaneous beginning and end of the message. After all, it would have been a shame if someone came across it and ended up reading it in a way in which Robert did not intend it to have been read. Though, in hindsight, the period had already served the purpose, and the message could only have been read as:

_Hello, I am Robert Lutece._

I mean, okay. Imagine it being broken between words. Or in the part between Robert's first and last names. Though, that single thought pulled Robert away from his original thoughts and about his family and how he was essentially making the name of the Luteces. No one else before him had done anything even remotely as great, and all of his relatives could only weep in remorse that they and their progeny would remain where they were.

And yet, here he was. Robert Lutece, from an unassuming family, had worked up his way into being who he was right now, knowing that no other Lutece from this Earth - well, there always was a possibility of other Earths, but there was no proof of that - could be doing what he was doing now, which was... continuing to think how far he had come.

Being slightly embarrased, Robert immediately turned to his handmade improvised telegraph, looking for a way to encode the Morse code into the particle.

* * *

Robert returned to the Lutece Laboratory, feeling unexplained joy over the fact that the message was still there, being beamed to wherever. After all, there was no another Earth - the thought could only be humored by cosmologists, and due to the conflicting theories the cosmologists and the quantum physicists weren't exactly on good terms - and there was only this Earth, this Paris, this New York, this Lutece Laboratory and this message, in which Robert could still "hear" a residue of his own name. What came afterwards, though...

The student dropped his notebook in a brief flash of epiphany.

It was a brief message, from the same "Lutece particle", that now read, apparently, R-O-S-A-L-I-N-D. Robert had heard the name only once, back in his days of youth, when he had asked: "If I ever had a sister, what would she be named?"

"Well, my bets would probably be on Rosalind." Her mother had answered, and her father had agreed.

Knocked back to the present, Robert had finally realized. This _was_ some sort of alternate Earth with an alternate everything, including this Rosalind fellow, a sister that he never had, but who was now desperately searching for the brother she never had.

Robert immediately erased the message that he had encoded, and was waiting for the supposed answer. First, he waited for the eponymous forward slash, and then wrote down the message that he saw. He had already memorized Morse code by heart and therefore could immediately write letters that said:

_Hello, Robert. I am Rosalind Lutece. Aren't we related?_

* * *

_W.E. It's me! Hasn't Insane Guy of DOOM ever told you about his Marrissa escapades? In particular, about Principal Business Lady?_


End file.
